


Reckless Behavior

by cryptidturtle



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Family, Gen, Hospitals, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Tumblr Prompt, injury prompt, set near the end of scrooge donald and della's adventure days, srooge is a good uncle for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidturtle/pseuds/cryptidturtle
Summary: “I told you not to act recklessly like that. You might think you’re protecting me, but you’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep jumping in like that.”Donald makes a split second decision and puts himself in harm's way for his uncle.





	Reckless Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> based on these [injury prompts](https://transdarkwingduck.tumblr.com/post/180539818864/injury-starters)  
> talk to me about ducks on [my tumblr](https://transdarkwingduck.tumblr.com/)

He regains consciousness to find Scrooge peering down at him. Donald’s vision is foggy but slowly clearing as he groggily blinks the haziness out of his eyes. He can just barely make out the eyes behind the spectacles resting on Scrooge’s beak. His eyelids feel heavy and it’s a fight not to ignore his uncle’s strange look and slip back under the blanket of sleep.

Donald attempts to shift into a more comfortable position when a pulsing throb coming from his chest makes him cease his movements. He lets out a low groan of pain before he can stop himself, his voice even more hoarse than usual from disuse.

“You’ll pull your stitches, lad.” Is what Scrooge says to him, the tone far too glum to sound chiding. Stitches. He has stitches. The pain wakes him up enough to process he’s lying in a hospital bed. But it doesn’t look to be the V.I.P. hospital suite in Duckburg, which means they aren’t back in Calisota yet. He doesn’t know what to do with this information, and the beginning of a steady thrum behind his skull pushing past the disorientation makes him deem it not important.

“…Where’s-“ He begins to ask.

“Della went to go raid the vending machines, dinnae expect you to be up anytime soon. I imagine she’s also takin’ the time to interrogate your doctor about when you’ll be able to leave…” His uncle cuts him off, already knowing just what Donald would want to know.

Donald nods relieved not to have to finish speaking, his throat is scratchy and sore. The longer he’s awake the more he finds everything hurts. Something in his expression must convey his discomfort because he finds a Styrofoam cup with a straw thrust near his face. “Drink up, lad. You’ve been out for about a day now, the last thing we need is you getting dehydrated.” Scrooge says. Donald wants to protest that he can hold his own cup, but his throat is too dry and his body is too weary to argue.

As he drinks, he notices the disheveled state of his uncle, his feathers stuck up in a few places and his top hat discarded on a nearby chair. From the looks of it Scrooge had been mid pacing when Donald had woke up. All too soon the cup was pulled away with an explanation of “If you drink too fast, you’ll make yerself sick.”

They lapse into silence as Scrooge puzzles over the correct words to say, never the most proficient at playing the role of the doting uncle. Donald being far too drained to offer any assistance. Eventually Scrooge decides to go with “So how are ya feeling?”

“I feel like shit.”

“ _Language._ ”

“…Sorry.” Donald replies, casting his eyes downward and away from his uncle’s concerned gaze. The dull ache radiated from practically everywhere on his battered frame. He knows the obligatory lecture is coming. About how foolish and irresponsible he was for whatever stunt he pulled.

The events leading up to waking up in the hospital were cloudy. It’s a tossup if he even knew where in India they’d traveled too and just forgot it after a few too many bumps on the head or if he’d just tuned it out altogether. Scrooge, Della, and Donald traveled to some abandoned and crumbling structure as always, sniffing out trouble and treasure. Scrooge and Donald were on some ledge overlooking a small ravine or perhaps a large gully, Della was a few feet away puzzling out some wall inscription. He heard the _crack_ a half second before his uncle did. It was an instant decision he found all to easy to make, Scrooge was getting older his aging bones wouldn’t handle the fall as well as Donald’s. So, he shoved his uncle out of the range of danger. He guesses he took a fall after that.

Scrooge sits down on the chair adjacent to Donald’s hospital bed. His face is unreadable, his grip on the arm of the chair tight with tension. When he finally speaks his voice is hoarse with emotion, “Now can ya tell me why you’d go and do something like that?”

Donald plays dumb, maybe they’d just drop the conversation if he pretends not to remember it. “Do something like what?” He asks. Donald deflates when he finds it doesn’t work judging by Scrooge’s clouded expression.

“Go and _push_ me out of the way like that. Why’d you do that? Putting yerself at risk for an old cod like me.” Scrooge grumbles, attempting to mask the genuine distress in his voice.

Donald huffs in frustration, “It was just instinct. I heard the rocks crumbling before you did so I pushed you out of the way. I don’t see the big deal.”

“ _That_ precisely is the problem Donald. I dinnae want your instinct to ever be protect me before yerself. Do you remember what I told you both in Cape May? After you and Della picked a fight with those fishermen for trashing my name?” Scrooge prompts.

Donald’s face reddens with embarrassment as he recalled the lecture, he has a feeling Scrooge isn’t going to let the Cape May incident go for a good while. “You said ‘I told you to nae act recklessly like that. You might think yer protecting me, but yer gonna get yerself killed if you keep jumping in like that’” He recited, mimicking Scrooge’s accent. Judging from Scrooge unamused expression, he doesn’t appreciate the humor.

Donald lets the uneasy smile fall from his beak, he sighs and averts his eyes. He pretends to look very interested in the bandages covering his stitches, must’ve been rocks in the bottom of the ravine. He can feel Scooge’s eyes on him and mumbles a halfhearted apology.

Donald feels his uncle put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You know I care about you dontcha lad, Donald? If you got hurt _worse_ than what happened yesterday on my watch- and doing so to protect _me_ \- why, I’d never forgive myself.” Scrooge says softly, the genuine emotion in his voice catching Donald off guard. He hasn’t seen his uncle look this vulnerable in a long time. His voice dies in his throat and all he can do is nod, yes, he knows Scrooge cares about him.

It’s a good moment before Donald can find it in himself to speak, swallowing thickly. “…I’ll be more careful… I promise.”

“ _Thank you._ ” His uncle says. The relief on Scrooge’s face is so blatant that he feels a sliver of guilt worm its way up his chest. Before he can awkwardly shrug off the thanks, Scrooge, who also struggles with heart to hearts lasting too long, offers him a shaky smile. “Besides, I’m not _that_ old lad, you make it sound like I’m too frail to fall down a ravine or two!”

Donald lets out a laugh, “Face it old man, your ravine-falling days are over!” He teases.

Scrooge scoffs dramatically, humor in his eyes. “We’ll see about that.” He replies.

Just then the hospital room door is kicked open and the enthusiastic voice of Donald’s sister relieved he’s awake fills his ears and a pile of snacks is deposited on his bed. The aches and pains he feels momentarily forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> i love comments and hearing thoughts on what ive wrote! give me a shout here or my duck tumblr, requests are open!


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